Our cat loves to chase the red laser dot – really loves it – to the point that he’s learned exactly one English word: dot. To avoid getting him overstimulated in anticipation, I will ask my wife “Can you get Dorothy ready? If he doesn’t burn off some energy we’ll get no sleep tonight.”

Dorothy, if you’re going to make Walky delve some into the world of professionalism, you’re also going to have to delve into the world of Walkyism. Just because you have Monkey Master in common doesn’t mean much unless you go full Walky. Same goes for you Walky except vice-versa with the Dorothyism.

This. /She/ would probably be far more comfortable in a bustier than in Walky’s particular brand of uber-casual clothes. That’s sort of the point though, she needs to wear what he is comfortable with if she’s going to make him wear something he’s not comfortable with.

Dorothy should learn the a person like Walky won’t ever pick up subtext, ever. If this keeps up, it’ll be like the episode of [insert sitcom] where the naggy wife drops subtle hints to the thickheaded, lazy dad, and then gets angry when he doesn’t pick them up. I HATE that episode.

Actually, apart from the breading, and the oil that they’re fried in (which typically was the previous day’s french fry oil, run through a filter by the night crew), McNuggets are made entirely out of stuff that used to be part of a chicken at one time. They’re *not* made entirely out of what you get if you go to the grocery store meat counter and buy chicken. That’s usually all breast meat, or occasionally legs and thighs, which are the places where chickens have their big muscles, hence you get large contiguous pieces of meat. McNuggets contain substantial quantities of other parts of the chicken, which are cheaper due to lower demand (because they’re not continuous big solid pieces of meat). At one time wings would’ve been included, but these days those mostly go for Buffalo wings, but that still leaves plenty of other chicken parts. Chicken back, chicken neck, etc., the less desirable parts — well, the less desirable _edible_ parts (as opposed to feathers and beaks). There was a TV advertising campaign in the eighties… “What parts of the chicken is that stuff made from? I don’t know, pieces parts. Parts is parts.” It wasn’t a very effective commercial, because it called more attention to the competing product than to the product being advertised; in fact, I don’t even remember what brand it was for or know whether they’re still in business. But the description was essentially accurate.

As for Kraft mac & cheese, everyone knows you don’t _eat_ that. You bait rat traps with that. Proper macaroni and cheese is made with actual cheese (not day-glo orange powder) and is baked.

Personally I think that Dorothy deserves him but he doesn’t deserve her. Not because he’s better than her, persay, but because he hasn’t done anything to invite being pressured to change himself. Dorothy on the other hand has dedicated herself to future and image sufficiently strongly and (arguably) selfishly that this is fair to her on account of irony.

Am I’m the only one who found that weird? This is what I consider to be a normal response to such a request. Besides, being able to dress up your significant other in stuff you like is damn alluring without any extra kinkiness coming into it.

I am simply unable to recontruct the joke in a way that does not either rely on the reader assuming that men are natural perverts, or at least a penchant for comedic timing to realize that “anything” is meant to be the set-up for a punchline. And if a joke relies on your knowledge to realize that it has the format of a joke, then it has issues as an actual joke.

Maybe one could add Joe to the scene to show how differently they react? Add some lead-up strips where W & D talk about sex coming up that night? No clue!

I found the subtext weird because she has a roommate it’s one thing to have fully clothed platonic boner-making non-sex in the bunk above her roomie, but it’s another thing to be putting on lingerie for their three-person study session.

As for having to reconstruct the joke, Dorothy has made it clear that she is unimpressed with how slow Walky goes romantically. It would not be entirely out of the question to thing that when she signed up for this fling she was expecting to get a fuckbuddy out of it, and is both displeased that she didn’t and is hoping that he’ll eventually catch a clue – at least enough of one to go at the pace she wants to set.

Sometime late at night Walky’s eyes will slam open, staring unseeing at the ceiling, while the knowledge that he is not only a doofus, but a doofus who didn’t buy his smoking hot girlfriend skimpy skivvies when he had a chance.

Most of the time, I just want to rip Walky apart limb from limb. Just punch him in his stupid face and just tell him how much of a goddamn idiot he is. Beat him with the limbs I’ve torn apart. Half of it is because he’s just an immature, dumb, 18-year-old, and they’re all like that so I’d probably do that to all of those sorts of kids… the other half… is because he reminds me EXACTLY of me at his age. >.<;

"DAMMIT, WALKY! YOU *IDIOT!* YOU ARE AN IGNORANT SLOB, VOID OF ANY CAPABILITY OF MATURITY, WALKY! YOU'RE JUST AN IDIOT, WALKY! A DUMB KID, WALKY! WHY YOU GOTTA BE SO *STUPID,* ARKHAM?!" "… this isn't about me anymore, is it?" "… ::softly, defeated:: … no."

More than that I don’t see why she expects Walky to come up with anything else. He’s obviously not a great clothes shopper anyway.

But even so, if I had a girlfriend of only a few weeks and went shopping with her for the first time, without having already had sex, I would probably not respond to “you can get me anything to wear” with “right, I’m off to the lingerie section”.